


Lion Cub

by deltachye



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Angst and Humor, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-12 23:08:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9094771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltachye/pseuds/deltachye
Summary: [detective!reader x detective!lev haiba]A cat has nine lives. For three he plays, for three he strays, and for the last three... he stays.





	1. Chapter 1: Boy and Girl In Blue

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Cat Burglar](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8115571) by [deltachye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltachye/pseuds/deltachye). 



> A spinoff fic to Cat Burglar.
> 
> Disclaimer:  
> \- This is an AU of an AU I wrote previously—in which the reader doesn't find out Cat Burglar's identity and ends up with Lev instead of Kenma.  
> \- This is written as a western type of police drama, more specifically, it is based on NYPD operatives. So, while it's set in the city of Tokyo, it will be inaccurate to Japanese law.  
> \- This is fully a detective!AU, meaning that the events of Haikyuu!! canon don't happen at all.  
> \- This is rated 17+/T for language, violence, drug references, etc.

* * *

 

“I _hate_ this,” you moaned.

“You and me both,” Lev muttered under his breath. He glanced up at you as you blew on your gas station coffee irritably. The two of you were cooped up in the cruiser after making a stop by 7-11.

It was ironic, having a woman who couldn’t drive as a traffic cop of all things.

It hadn’t always been that way. You used to be an esteemed detective, with almost 34 successfully closed cases under your stylish belt before hitting the age of (well, he still didn’t know how old you were, but he liked to think you weren’t _that_ much older than him). But a roadblock had come up and some people just weren’t able to hurdle them. Cat Burglar had gotten away. And although nothing terrible had happened, Yaku kept his word and punished the both of you by demoting you both to lowly boys (in this case, boy and girl) in blue. Lev hated the hideous police cruiser almost more than he hated the stiffness of the uniform constricting his lanky frame.

“Let’s drive back to HQ,” you sighed, putting the lid back on your coffee. Lev raised an eyebrow.

“What’s this? You don’t want to ticket any more unsuspecting people?”

Your scowl deepened. “I don’t ticket anybody who isn’t breaking the law. Though it does give me great joy to write out slips to shitty parkers.” You brushed your hair behind your ears, having refused to have it up as per protocol. “But I hate talking to people anyways. They don’t listen to me just ‘cause I’m a _girl_. It’s annoying to go ‘do you know why I pulled you over?’, and hear ‘because you wanna suck me off?’ a thousand times.”

Lev laughed. “That’s why you should let _me_ knock on their windows.”

“I should,” you mused. “A two-meter Russian guy. They wouldn’t ask to suck you off.”

“Hey, maybe they would! I’m handsome, aren’t I?”

“Right,” you snorted. You tapped on the dash. “Let’s get going. It’s donut Thursday and I don’t want to be late.”

Lev Haiba was a fresh graduate, soon to be 21 next October. It was kind of embarrassing to admit his age when people thought he was thirty, and even you had laughed rapaciously at him when he confessed meekly that he was twenty, two-zero, not three-zero. He glanced over at you as he turned the key in the ignition. You were busy playing with the car’s controls, skipping past regulation channels to find something different.

He’d always been a good profiler, too. He and his sister had gone out people watching a lot as a kid, for no reason other than a general lack of other things to do. He was able to think about what they were thinking about just by watching their face. A man might twitch his nose if he was missing his kids. A woman might curl her lip with contempt if an old ex-friend passed in her thoughts. He knew how people ticked, how they thought. That same skill had made him gifted at interrogations. You, on the other hand, always had your lips set in a heavy scowl as if you were going to shove your foot right up somebody’s hoo-ha, which usually ended up happening. Your brows were unkempt and silvery grey was shot through your hair intermittently. But he’d already learnt to take it as your natural resting face. In fact, he’d learnt to love it.

Quickly, he looked to the road before he ran something over.

It had been an accident, really. He had never woken up one morning like, “you know what’d be a good idea? Falling in love with my superior! That’d be great!” But it had happened. At first he’d respected you. You were a great cop. A genius. A ‘screw the books, I’ll do it my own way’ girl. You had spunk. You had smarts. In return for his glowing admiration, you hated his guts. But he didn’t blame you—he was kind of annoying the first two months. He hoped to think he was growing on you, but you were the one person he couldn’t really get a read on. You never acted differently around him than you did with any of the other guys in the precinct. He would’ve really liked it if you liked him back, but he wasn’t a dumbass. Some things weren’t meant to be. Inter-office relationships were _especially_ a no-no. His feelings would fade.

…well, he had been hoping that they’d fade for the last 11 months, but moving forwards.

The precinct he called his second home wasn’t far from where the two of you had stopped, and by pulling the siren for no reason other than ‘traffic is annoying and the siren makes me feel cool’, the two of you made it in no time at all. You hopped out and leant on the hood as he struggled to pull himself out of the tiny cruiser meant for average Japanese men rather than gigantic half-Russians. When he finally shook himself out of the car, you smirked at him.

“What?” he asked, afraid that he’d worn something backwards or forgotten to zip up his fly.

“You look good in uniform, kid.”

Although he hated when you called him ‘kid’, his heart fluttered into a fast pounding when you complimented him. He lifted his cap awkwardly, the breeze cooling sweat, and brushed his hair into place.

“Thanks. You too.”

You were wearing your own in the loosest, most casual fashion possible, your buttons done wrong and your pins crooked. Ever since the demotion you had complained about losing your trench coat ( _it’s a_ must _for a detective, for God’s sake!_ ). Standing there, you looked more like a person who was going as a cop to a boozy Halloween party. Still, he had to force himself to look at your left eyebrow. The left eyebrow was safe. There was nothing questionable about staring at a person’s left eyebrow, and he didn’t trust himself to let his gaze wander.

“Come on,” you beckoned, walking off towards the door. “Kuroo’ll eat all the damn honey crullers if we don’t get there first.”

“Hey,” he brought up, your constant calling him of ‘kid’ reminding him of something. “Your rookie name was Kitten, right?”

You nearly tripped over a rock and he grasped your elbow to keep you from eating Tokyo pavement. Holding your arm, he could feel the accumulated strength and muscle, and let go as soon as you muttered a spiteful thanks.

“I thought we weren’t going to talk about that,” you grumbled. He smiled wryly.

“I think it’s cute. You should bring it back.”

“Absolutely not. Want to hear what Kuroo’s was? It was Kat, with a K, because Yaku thought he was funny.”

“What was Captain Yaku’s rookie name?”

“I wasn’t around for that. I’m sure it was stupid, too. Hm… your name means lion in Russian, right? That’s what you said?” You paused in front of the door, your hand hovering over the handle as you gave him a look. He nodded warily.

“Yeah, why?”

“Why don’t we call you Cub? Like a lion cub?” you laughed to yourself and he resisted the urge to cringe with disgust.

“Cub?! That’s… so uncool. Why couldn’t you just say ‘Lion’? That’s way better!”

“Rookies don’t have rights,” you declared, opening the door. “Deal with it, Cub.”

“I object! Besides, it’s the law that _everybody_ has rights—”

“[Name]! Lev!”

The sudden shout from across the room stopped the both of you dead. You turned, the small smile that he secretly adored widening on your face as a disgruntled Sergeant Kuroo stormed towards the both of you.

“What is it?” you asked smarmily. “You here to make fun of my uniform? Or are you going to yell at us for being early off… shift…” Suddenly your voice slowed and you were looking at Kuroo with a serious expression, lips set tight. He could tell you were anxious because a small scar on the corner of your mouth would jump, twitching nervously whenever you were apprehensive about something.

Lev looked to Kuroo, who was also tense, his back teeth grinding together. Kuroo’s fists were clenched and shaking. Lev had tried to bury it, but the resentment still rose—you had been Kuroo’s partner before he came along, and Lev still felt as if you and Kuroo had some sort of deeper connection he would never realize. Although you denied fervently that you had any feelings for Sergeant Kuroo Tetsurou, Lev still felt some hostility when facing the other man. However, the chill in the room as well as the eerie absence of noise made him realize that now wasn’t the time for stupid shows of masculinity.

“What happened?” you snapped. Your humour was gone—this was ‘work you’, a woman who stopped at nothing to get justice.

“It’s… I…” Kuroo was speechless for the first time Lev had known him. You stepped forwards and pushed Kuroo aside, looking around the empty room with horror. Lev looked down at Kuroo, and with shock, realized that the older man had been _crying_. Redness welled his amber eyes and there was still a slick line of a tear’s pathway down his unshaved jaw.

“Sarge?” he asked, his voice shaking. “What happened?”

“I…” Kuroo closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Something clawed his arm and he realized it was you, grabbing onto him. Ignoring the feeling of his heart jumping out of his throat, he asked again more forcefully.

“What _happened_?”

“Yaku… Morisuke… oh god.” Kuroo choked back emotion or vomit and swiped another tear out of his eyes.

“Yaku? What about Yaku? Is he okay? Kuroo, tell me he’s okay.” Your voice was high with hysteria and Lev clutched your arm to make sure you didn’t run off or fall to your knees. Kuroo inhaled deeply.

“He’s… Yaku’s… Morisuke’s _dead_.”


	2. Chapter 2: The Ghost of Kick-Your-Ass (Like Christmas Past, But Angrier)

Lev was glad he was holding you. If he hadn’t, you would’ve fallen straight to the ground. He felt your knees give when they did and held you even closer to him, tightening his hold around your body as you sobbed. He could feel the tears leech through his cotton uniform top, but he didn’t even care, panic seeping through his body like his blood cells had all turned to shards of ice.

“You’re kidding,” he said incredulously, as if Kuroo were just joking around. “Yaku… Captain Yaku would never…”

“I have to go,” Kuroo said shortly. He coughed behind a hand and Lev knew it was to steady his voice. “To the hospital. Lev…?” The older man inhaled slowly, his eyes falling to you as you cried loudly. In a hushed voice, he muttered, “take care of her. For me. Please.”

“Yessir. Take care of yourself too, sir.” Out of rebellion, Lev had always refrained from calling his superior ‘sir’, just to piss the guy off. Kuroo didn’t even notice. Lev watched as Kuroo turned heel and marched out the door Lev had just come in through. When it slammed shut, the entire precinct was silent save for the sounds of your muffled sobs.

Lev settled you down into a chair and sat in front of you. He was still in a state of shock, where everything felt as if he were in a dream. Colours seemed too loud and sounds were too bright. He couldn’t even hope to imagine what you were feeling.

“Do you want to go to the hospital, too? I’ll take you there,” Lev murmured in a voice he hoped was soothing, but cracked like a teenager going through his emo phase.

“No,” you blurted out quickly between hiccups. You shook your head emphatically. “Can't… see him like that…”

“Okay,” Lev said hurriedly, so that you wouldn’t force yourself to keep talking. He hated seeing you like this. He thought he never would. You had always been so strong and now you were about falling over yourself, mascara running black rivers down puffy cheeks. He found a Kleenex on top of Yamamoto’s desk and wiped your face for you, marvelling at how small it was in his large hands. After a while your crying died down to sniffles and you looked very tiny, your ego dissolved, leaving you as a shell of who you had been just a few moments ago. It broke his heart.

“I’ll take you home,” he decided, but was surprised when you shook your head. You reached forwards and grabbed his sleeve, his heart kicking hard into overdrive as you grit your teeth and spoke.

“I don’t… want to be… alone.”

“Okay,” he said again. Stupidly, he paused. “I’ll… uh… take you to my place?”

You nodded once. He stood and you stood with him, shuffling along, your hand sliding down his arm to clutch his hand. For once, Lev didn’t feel like screaming out of joy or getting down onto his knees to thank the Gods. He just felt sorry he had to hold you like this in the first place.

\---

“Can I use your shower?” you asked quietly as he let you into his apartment. It wasn’t anything much, a bachelor’s suite paid for by a cruddy detective’s salary. There was old takeout on the counters and he hadn’t vacuumed in… well, ever, but he didn’t think you would mind. He nodded before pointing at your clothes.

“Uh… you don’t have a spare change, right?”

You blinked and looked down detachedly. “Oh. Right.” 

He didn’t like this version of you. You sounded like a robot. You sounded too… dead. That reminded him of Yaku and his stomach turned with grief—to distract himself, he hastily jogged into the bedroom, remembering one of his old high school shirts that he’d buried under all the other ones. He pulled out his smallest pair of shorts, too, and a spare towel he’d tucked into a cupboard. When he went back into the living room you were walking around, looking at all of his photos. You heard him come back and smiled faintly, pointing at one of his family portraits Alisa had hung up for him.

“You were a cute kid. What happened?” you asked jokingly. It was weak, but an immense wave of relief came over him when he heard the biting wit return to you.

“I became even more attractive. Here. They’ll probably be too big, but it’s the best I could find.”

You took the pile from his arms before hesitating. You shuffled forwards and took your arm not holding a bunch of crap, wrapping it around his torso. Cool. As if he hadn’t gone into cardiac arrest _enough_.

“Thanks, Cub… Hai—um, Lev. Thanks.”

You left it at that and walked towards the bathroom, shutting the door behind you softly. When you did, he collapsed onto his bed, wheezing with the exertion of keeping his emotions at bay.

Not only did he just hear about the death of his captain, but now he was keeping his ‘crush’ (for lack of more sophisticated wording) in his _house_. You were probably stripping down naked—but his captain was dead. What the hell was he supposed to feel?! He heard the water running and decided that he might as well get things ready for you. He made his bed as best as he could, since he didn’t know how, dragging the blanket around until it looked neat enough. He pulled an old Japanese futon out from his closet and arranged it out on the floor, as far away from the bed as possible, so he wouldn’t do anything stupid in the night. God, why was he still thinking about that? Why was he so happy to spend time with you when his captain was literally _gone_?!

Suddenly, as if to illustrate his own inner turmoil and desire to scream, you screamed. You tumbled out of the washroom still yelling, nearly slipping and face planting onto the floor. He jumped and reached for the gun on his table, the cool metal sliding under his fingers.

“What is it?” he yelped, looking at you before looking away. Thankfully, you were wearing his shirt, but you had forgotten the pants and there was no way he could focus on your left eyebrow if you weren’t wearing pants. 

“The—Yaku—I—my! _Lev_!”

That wasn’t very helpful. Suddenly, you started skittering towards him, much to his despair as he was _definitely_ not going to be able to concentrate on your left eyebrow. You threw yourself on him, wrenching the gun out of his hands and replacing it with a cracked iPhone. It was vibrating incessantly.

“It’s Yaku!” you screeched. He blinked and looked at you.

“Why aren’t you picking it up, then?”

“What if it’s his vengeful ghost in the spirit land looking for a pathway back into the mortal world? I can’t pick it up or he’ll possess me!” You shuddered at the thought, your still-soapy hair splattering water onto him as you did. 

“You believe in ghosts?” he asked, surprised.

“Lev, pick it up!”

He didn’t even have time to acknowledge that you had referred to him by his given name not once, not twice, but _thrice_ , deciding more important things were at hand. He swiped right on your phone and gingerly held it up to his ear. The both of you waited with baited breaths.

“[Name]?” came a disgruntled voice.

“Yaku?!” he asked, sitting up stick straight. There was no mistaking the gruff tone or the implied annoyance. Hot tears of relief welled in his eyes. “Yaku, is that really you?”

“It’s his ghost!” you screamed with anguish, slapping your hands to your cheeks. “Lev, you’re going to get possessed!”

“I’m not a damn ghost!” Yaku roared. “I’m alive, dammit!”

It was loud enough for you to hear and your hands slid from your face. You yanked the phone away from Lev’s ear and put it on speaker.

“Are you really?” you asked quietly.

“Yes!” Yaku bellowed, your phone rattling. “How many times do I have to listen to all you weepy crybabies?! If you cry at my _real_ funeral, I’m definitely coming back as a ghost to kick your asses! I told you I didn’t want any crying!”

“Morisuke!” you gasped. “You’re really not dead!”

“I’m so glad!” Lev chimed in, and the static of Yaku’s sigh erupted over the speaker. You had crawled over to Lev’s side and clutched his arm again, your warmth compensating for the chill the spray of water had left on his skin.

“But why’d you fake it?” you asked, suddenly serious again. “Are you in the hospital for real?”

“Well, that part’s true. But I had to act like I was dead. Understand? This conversation isn’t happening right now. I’m still dead.”

“But why?” Lev insisted. “What happened?”

“I don’t… remember. God, I know. It’s stupid. But I really can’t remember what happened. All I know is that I woke up in some alleyway, close to death, and I should’ve been dead. The only reason I’m still alive is because some hobo happened to see me and promised she wouldn’t tell anybody for cash.”

“But you’re alive,” you pointed out. “So something went wrong…? But that means in the first place…”

“Somebody definitely tried to kill me.”

The words made Lev feel so cold that even you could not warm him up.

“Who?” he whispered.

“Dumbass!” Yaku yelled, your phone vibrating off of his coffee table. You scrambled to catch it. “What part of _I don’t remember_ is unclear?!”

“Does Kuroo know? The others?” Lev pressed. His Sergeant’s ragged eyes flashed to mind and he shuddered.

“No. I can’t tell them. I haven’t even talked to my wife or kid. The hospital staff is telling everybody that I’m being autopsied for some contagious disease. I would’ve liked to tell everybody, but the FBI is in on this. I’m stuck.”

“FBI?” you groaned. You had _mad_ beef with the FBI. Lev hadn’t ever had to work with them yet, but you spoke about them with such venom that he hated them as well by default.

“But that just goes to show how big this is. They won’t even tell me who they _think_ shived me.”

“That’s bull!” you protested. “You almost died!”

“Right? But they won’t tell me. Hush hush, top stuff. No good even for the Captain to know. But I couldn’t keep it to myself. I had to tell somebody. I’m squatting in my washroom with a contraband phone, and you won’t believe—wait.” Suddenly, there seemed to be an audible sound of epiphany from him. Suspiciously, Yaku asked, “speaking of which… why is the kid with you?”

You paled and Lev scratched his head, feeling warmth rise up his pale skin. He could feel Yaku’s dark brown eyes on him from miles away.

“Um… partner business! Still on duty. Right L—Haiba?”

“R-right, [Surname]!”

He could tell that you weren’t wearing a bra. Look at the ceiling, the ceiling…

“Oh?” Yaku paused for a heart-straining moment. Satisfied, he snorted. “Well then. That’s good. I wouldn’t want my death to mess work up. Got it? When I die for real…”

“Don’t jinx it old man,” you warned. 

He sighed again, the sound a rush of watery static. “Yeah… damn, I oughta retire.”

“Just rest for now,” you reassured. A thought came over you. “But why us? Why not Kuroo?”

“Because I need Kuroo—Tetsu—to be steady minded when he takes Captaincy of our precinct. No way I can get back in time to handle things with the feds up my ass, and he gets distracted easy.”

Lev nodded. It only made sense. Kuroo was the most senior officer, besides Yaku, and had the most experience out of everybody. He’d make a great captain. Still, seeing Kuroo’s normally confident face etched with such grief… Lev felt bad about knowing something his superior didn’t.

“You didn’t tell us why you chose to call [Name],” Lev mentioned. “Why not Kai or anybody else?”

“Haiba, you weren’t supposed to be here when I called. But now that you are, I guess it’s too late. You two work okay anyways, so I’m not too worried.” Yaku inhaled deeply. “[Name]’s my best girl. I need you to work against FBI to find out who tried to kill me.”

“Oh,” Lev said. “No pressure.”


	3. Chapter 3: Don't.

After hanging up, you and Lev looked at each other in an almost suspended state of time. He didn’t know what to say and it seemed like you didn’t, either, so you kept studying him. Finally, you got up and sighed.

“I’ll finish showering… you should think about what you want to do.”

He watched as you retreated into the washroom, slamming the door shut behind you so powerfully that his walls shook. He sighed and leant back onto his futon, staring up at the dingy ceiling. What _did_ he want to do? It was obvious that he wanted to support you in whatever you chose, but you would hate him forever if he resolved himself to being a kid you did nothing but follow you around. That’d be a pussy move, and if he were to grow up from being a lion cub to a real predator, he needed to think for himself.

Still, it wasn’t a hard decision. Yaku was his second father. If he could do anything at all to help, he would do it without hesitation. When you re-emerged, fully washed and (thankfully, fully clothed), he told you his decision in a determined voice. You blinked before looking down, scoffing with a gentle smile on your face. When you looked back up, you had a sly grin on your face.

“I see. You and me both, then.”

He wasn’t able to deny the flicker of excitement he felt when he realized that this was it. He’d be working an undercover case like in all the movies—fighting against the system and sticking it to the brass. And with whom? You. But he shut himself up to prevent anything stupid coming out of his big fat mouth and merely grinned.

“How do we get started?” he asked. After all, nobody really taught you how to work a case illegally in the Academy. You flopped onto his bed and stuck up a lazy waving hand.

“First… sleep. Get some rest, Haiba.”

He noticed with a bit of disappointment that you had returned to calling him by surname. Still, you were here, and that was enough for him to lie down with a smile on his face. He didn’t think he would be able to rest after the turbulent events of the afternoon, but it must have exhausted him, and sleep came easy.

\---

“You snore too loud,” you hissed to him as the two of you walked into the precinct. He let the door close behind him, scratching his head apologetically.

“Well, I don’t normally sleep with people around. And I don’t normally sleep on the floor. My neck hurts because of you. You should be grateful.”

“My back hurts. Your bed is shit.”

Before he could whip up another complaint out of many, you held your arm out, stopping him mid track. You peered into the offices, which were eerily quiet once again. Still, he could hear people shuffling around, phones ringing and papers being printed. When he took a careful look, everybody was there—but nobody spoke. Of course the mood would’ve plummeted. To them, Yaku was still dead.

“Look upset,” you warned. He shrugged.

“Easy enough.”

You walked to your desk, which was conjoined with his. Kuroo was at his, neighbouring yours, a cigarette in his hands. You yanked it out of his hands and crushed it in an overflowing ashtray, giving Kuroo a dirty look.

“Thought you were supposed to be quitting, Tetsu.”

“That was before Yaku kicked the can early.” Kuroo rubbed his eyes, which were red rimmed and dark and worst of all, empty. Lev couldn’t help but feel anything but pity and guilt for not being able to relieve Kuroo’s pain.

“Would Yaku want you to shovel ash down your throat? Would Morsiuke want you to suck on cancer sticks like you used to? No. He’s gone and we’ve gotta move on for him. You know what he said.” With emphasis, you shook your finger at him like Yaku would’ve. “No tears.”

“Shit, his funeral’s today… forgot…” Kuroo inhaled deeply and sighed, looking so broken that Lev had half a mind to blurt out the truth. But he shut himself up and sat at his desk instead, stiffly pulling out the forms he had neglected to do last night. You sat across from him heavily at your own spot, doing the same with a pressed lip grimace. His eyes flicked up to you to read your expression. He still couldn’t tell what you were thinking and decided that he had better keep to himself. He felt a prickling on the side of his face and looked to the right, where Kuroo was staring at him. The older man looked to you and then back to Lev.

“Is something wrong?” Lev finally asked, timidly, which was uncharacteristic in of itself.

“You both smell the same. _Your_ hair’s pressed weird, like you slept out of a bed. [Name] won’t stop rubbing her neck. You got here together today. Did you sleep together?”

Lev almost swore. Kuroo was a master in reading body language and micro expressions, and the Sergeant probably got the ‘yessir’ from his face. He had no idea whether or not to keep lying to Kuroo, but you stole the show by snorting.

“‘You do what you can to get through the day,’” you said snappishly, and Lev realized you were quoting Yaku. That… had been a bad night for the precinct. A perp had managed to escape the holding cells and shot down two officers as well as an innocent. _You do what you can to get through the day_ , Yaku had shouted to everybody as they mopped blood and tears from the floor.

Kuroo’s eyes widened a flash and he looked back to Lev for confirmation. Swallowing, Lev merely tried to focus on the report he was writing. His heart was pounding and his hands shook so badly that he couldn’t even write. Were you trying to insinuate that he was the type of guy to have a one-night stand with you when you were at your most vulnerable? He desperately wanted to ask you if you thought that of him, but with Kuroo’s hot gaze right on his face, he knew that he had to let it slide for the time being.

Kuroo finally scoffed, the familiar sound of a lighter flicking open. Lev glanced up at his superior as the man lit another cigarette, smoke drifting up to the ceiling. He said nothing further and Lev glanced at you, who was also looking at Kuroo with a flash of pity. You noticed his noticing and shook your head slightly. Later, you slid a note across the joined table to him. Only one word was written.

_Don’t._

\---

“At attention!”

Lev was surprised he could even find his formals in his mess of a closet. The heavy cotton fabric and his medal pins dug into his flesh uncomfortably. You stood in front of him, the casket balanced on your shoulder. As if to mourn the occasion, cold Tokyo rain fell on the grassy plains, masking the men’s hot tears. The casket was heavy in his hands, making Lev fear that there might actually be somebody inside. Lev felt his own eyes sting when he heard the muffled sniffles behind him. Even though Yaku wasn’t dead, he was the only one with that comfort. Everybody else was left cold.

Kuroo was holding a rifle for the three-volley. His face was hidden behind his cap, but as Lev approached with the casket, Lev could tell that the man was shaking, the rifle clicking in his hands. Lev’s eyes turned forwards to you, who marched steadily. He had no idea how you could be so calm about this. Everybody was suffering and only the two of you held information that would make it all right.

The team of carriers lowered the casket onto the platform and stood in line. You raised your arm in a stiff salute he had never seen you do. Somebody was reciting a scripted eulogy that was a ‘fill-in-the-blanks’ with Yaku’s name. Lev started to shake with fury. Yaku wasn’t just ‘an honourable man’—he was _more_ than that. He deserved something from the heart. Yaku deserved something real. As if noticing his distracted state, you whispered harshly out the corner of your mouth,

“Don’t.”

He calmed down with a deep breath as Yamamoto wiped his eyes at his side.

The flag was folded and handed to Yaku’s wife, who was sobbing so hard that she could barely accept the white and red cloth. Yaku had never talked about his family much, insisting that personal and work things be separated. Still, at one over-the-top celebration, he had admitted to an empty bottle of sake that the reason he never talked about his wife or kids was to protect them. _If somebody wants to get to ya’, what’s the best thing they can hit? Not you, god no. It’s them loved ones they want. Hurts more than if they woulda just shot you right in the nutter._

His daughter was being held back by one of Yaku’s other family members, and her screeches seemed to pierce the inside of Lev’s skull like knives. He wished he couldn’t understand, but he did.

“Why are they putting daddy away? Daddy needs to work! He told me that he needs to work and put the bad guys away, so why are they putting him away?! Stop! Stop it right now you bad guys! Daddy needs to work!”

“You and me both, kid,” he heard you whisper. He glanced and realized that he could see your real tears melding with rainwater. Not daring to move, he instead leant closer to you, feeling your shoulder press into his side. After a while, he could feel you lean back. 

“Don’t,” he told you softly. You inhaled sharply and the both of you stood and watched as the casket was lowered.


	4. Chapter 4: The Bootleg, Quick and Pretty Mad

The end of the ceremony was miserable. Lev lowered his gaze to avoid seeing Yaku’s wife, muttering an apology to her instead. Was it cowardly of him? He was a keeper of the peace but he couldn’t even look his superior’s wife in the eye. She was still sobbing, silently now, but nodded at him. He could see you in his peripheral, shaking your head. He left Mrs. Yaku with a heavy heart, feeling guilty that he had been the one to know instead of her. 

He walked back to you, catching a snippet of your conversation with Kuroo as he got closer.

“…going home?”

“No… they told me to head up to HQ downtown. I guess Yaku entrusted the place to me. The dumbass…” Kuroo laughed spitefully before putting his cap back onto his head, his hair having been flattened awkwardly by the humidity. His amber eyes looked somewhat more alert as he noticed Lev coming. “Take care of yourselves. It must be hard for you too, [Name], after what happened with your dad…”

“Yeah,” you said curtly, shooting Lev a look of panic that he did not miss. “I guess. Uh, take care of yourself too, Tetsu.”

The both of you walked back towards his car, peeling away from Kuroo as the older man lit another cigarette in the rain. He couldn’t quite forget what Kuroo had just said, but knew it wasn’t his place to ask. You got into his passenger’s side, shaking water from your hat and sighing.

“That was awful,” you groaned. He agreed with a small sigh.

“Have you heard anything from Yaku? Anything to go on?” he asked. You took out your phone and shook your head.

“You?” you asked. He had turned his phone onto silent for the ceremony and struggled to switch it back on, his large hand fumbling with the tiny buttons. It chimed cheerily and he frowned at the sight of the crowded screen.

“You didn’t get anything, [Surname]?” he asked slowly. You stopped fanning yourself and frowned, looking at your phone screen again.

“No. Why? Did Yaku call you?”

“No… my sister did.”

“Oh. She’s probably worried about you, then. Want me to step out while you call her?”

“No, it’s fine.” Still, Alisa never called him this much, preferring to text instead. He dialled back, feeling a pit of bad feelings open up in his gut. The phone rang, and rang… and then, it stopped. He bit his lip hard enough to taste blood and with shaky fingers, pressed his voicemail.

_“Lyovochka? It’s me, Alisa… This is going to sound weird, but if you’re free, could you come by my place? There’s been this car that’s been parked outside of my apartment for a couple of days and I… oh, it sounds so silly. Never mind. I’ll tell you in person. But if my baby detective brother could come by to check it out, I have syrniki baked. Call me back when you can!”_

_“Lyovochka! It’s Alisa. That car… heh, it’s gone, so I guess there’s no worries! It was in my head after all. I still have syrniki, though, so still drop by for lunch if you’d like. But bring a girl or a guy or somebody! You’re always so busy working that you’ve been single for way too long. Still love you, though!”_

_“Oh, oh! Lyovochka, I forgot to say. There was this man at the modelling company who said that he might help me start up my fashion company. Isn’t that so amazing?! This is what I’ve wanted ever since we were kids! Oh, I can’t wait to see you and tell you all about it! I know you’re busy with work. So busy that you’re not dating, ahem… Still, we have to talk sometime soon. I’ll see you later. Love you!”_

The last one was strange. It started off with empty silence, the static rush of breathing filling the quiet every now and then.

And then she screamed.

“Haiba? What are you—what the hell, where are we going?!” You grabbed onto the door as he threw the car into reverse, dropping his phone into his lap as his teeth ground together.

“My sister,” was all he said, before speeding off at breakneck speed towards her apartment.


	5. Chapter 5: The Volga

“Haiba! Dammit, Lev, wait _up_! Tell me what happened!”

The elevators would be too slow so he took off running, not even bothering to say his usual hellos to the doorman as he raced into the stair well. You followed behind, reaching out to grab his wrist. He shook you off, his heart pounding so hard that he couldn’t even hear you any longer. Alisa. Alisa. _Alisa_ —

He burst out onto the fifth floor, his head jerking around as he looked for the sight of her silver hair. He raced down the hall, skidding to a stop in front of room 221. The door was open. 

His gun was already in his hand when he kicked the door the rest of the way open, shouting her name. “Alisa!” he roared, looking around frantically. Broken glass lined the floor and her beloved antiquities and trinkets that he hated were shattered or upturned. The smell of baked goods in the air did nothing to mask the horror and he raced into the bedroom, the washroom—there was no sign of her.

When he came back into the living room, you were looking under the couch. You sat up when you saw him and held up her phone in a piece of cloth, your face grim.

“No.” He ran his hands through his hair and began to back away from you as if that might change what was happening. “No, this can’t be… No.” 

“Lev,” you said in the even tone you used on the next-of-kin of dead people. “It will be okay. We’re going to call in the techs. Our best people will be on this. Your sister will be all right.”

“You don’t _understand_!” he screamed, turning on you with an accusative finger pointed at you. You stepped back as he advanced, stepping on broken picture frames as he marched towards you. “You don’t _understand_. This happened _before_. Do you want to hear it? My mother and father were killed when I was thirteen years old. Alisa was all I have left. And do you know how they died?” He swallowed hard, not taking a second to breathe. “Alisa and I came home to _this_. Everything upturned, everything broken. Nobody home. Two days later they were floating in the Volga. This happened _before_. I can’t… I can’t do it again. Not again.”

Finally, his anger and fear and panic died away, taking his energy with them. He sank into the floor slowly as your arms cradled him, dropping him down onto a relatively clean patch of carpet. Your arms didn’t even shake as you supported his total body weight. You smoothed his hair away from his forehead, the gel for Yaku’s funeral crinkling under your touch. Your rough hands were soft as they cradled his head.

“It _won’t_ happen again,” you said firmly, looking at him unwaveringly. “I promise you… I’ll do everything I can to make sure of that.”

“That’s what Yaku said to me the first time,” Lev replied brokenly. “And they died anyways.”

He knocked your hands away and buried his face in his palms, unable to cry. He merely sat there.


	6. Chapter 6: Matryoshka Dolls

“This is fucked up… first Morisuke, now Lev?”

Kuroo was the first you had called after the tech squad and CSI. Lev sat, staring absentmindedly as people brushed together all of Alisa’s things, leaving little markers in their place. The ugly porcelain cow she had loved was dust and somebody swept it up, leaving a lifeless yellow tag in its place. Anger flared deep inside of him, swelled over by apathy. It looked too much like it did seven years ago. He hated it.

“Do you think somebody’s targeting the precinct?” you asked. Your voice was hushed but Lev could hear you all the same—it didn’t matter, though, because he wasn’t registering anything. A techie was bagging one of the matryoshka dolls that had been his mother’s. He looked away.

“If Yaku were here, he’d know… fucking hell. Why us?”

“Lev said something about Yaku working a case on his parents a couple of years back. Maybe there’s a link.”

“This is Missing Persons. We’re gonna’ have to contact FBI.”

“ _Those_ bureaucratic asshats?” you gasped. “Dammit Kuroo, we’d never find her then.”

“We have to pull Lev from the case, too. He’s too close—”

“Like _hell_ ,” Lev spat, finally able to understand something for a change. He stood, pushing aside a poor girl as she tried to get him to sit back down. He stormed up to Kuroo, whose eyes widened as he seethed. “I am _not_ abandoning Alisa. She’s all I have left.”

“Lev.” Kuroo hesitated, seeming to lose prized confidence in the face of Lev’s anger. “Kid. I know this hurts. Especially right after Yaku… I get it, man, but you’re too affected. You need to leave this with us. [Name] and I will do everything I can—”

“You _don’t_ get it!” he started to scream, his voice raw. “I’ve already _seen_ the people I love die! It’s already _happened_ and I have to stop it from happening again—”

“Lev, we’re going home.”

“What?!” He spun on you, not expecting to hear it from you of all people. Your face was expressionless. “I’m not going anywhere until we find my sister!”

“We're going home!” you barked. You took his wrist and started to pull him along, but he was stronger than you and flung himself out of your grasp.

“I’m not leaving.”

You looked to Kuroo for some reason, your face grim. “Permission to incapacitate, Captain?”

Kuroo pinched the bridge of his nose. “God… fine, granted.”

“Wait—no—[Name]!”

It was too late, for you’d already swept his feet out from under him, catching him in his arms as you delivered a hard blow to the nerve cluster at the base of his skull. His vision was promptly flashed with white and he heard you whisper,

“Sorry.”

Before he was out.

\---

When he woke up again, he was back in his apartment. The ceiling was too familiar. He had no idea how you could’ve gotten him here, and in his own bed at that. He sat up jerkily, realizing that he was out of his formals, too. An old shirt replaced the button up and blazer. Had you changed him, too? He could see you struggling to fit his lanky limbs through the holes. Maybe Kuroo had come along, too. The thought horrified him. He looked around and saw you sitting on the floor, papers strewn out around you like tiles.

“I hate you,” he said half-heartedly through gritted teeth. He didn’t mean it, but maybe he did. His sister was missing like his parents had gone, and you’d dragged him away when he should’ve been helping. You looked up at him, before looking away. The resentment in his gut grew.

“Is that why you became a cop? Because of Yaku?”

The sudden question threw him off and his brow furrowed. He got out of bed and walked to you, sitting in front of the circle of papers you had made. He read one of them upside down. 

**HAIBA MISSING PERSONS CASE: DECEMBER 2013**

You realized what he was doing and snatched the page, flipping it over. He looked up at you tiredly, resting his weight back heavily. 

“Yeah,” he began hoarsely. “Yaku gave me hope. Even though they…” He couldn’t say it and skipped past the word, his throat closing up tightly as he though of Alisa’s pained sobs when they’d gotten the news. “He told me that I should dedicate my life to stopping this from happening to anybody else.”

“He’s a great guy, isn’t he? Even then.” You sighed deeply, rubbing your eyes. Lev finally got the idea to check his watch and realized that it was 2 in the morning. Somehow, he’d slept for 9 hours. The panic of lost time hit him and he was angry with you again, despite the fact that you looked so tired.

“Why are you doing this to me? I thought you of all people who understand how I feel!” He rose, fully intent on grabbing his jacket and heading to the precinct before you spoke softly.

“You wanna know why I became a cop? Sure as hell wasn’t the shit hours or the shit pay.”

He froze, before slowly sitting back down with obvious reluctance. You leant back on your hands and looked at him, pain etched in the premature lines of your face.

“My dad died, too. He was murdered in cold blood… why? Because he was a lobbyist. He was good at his job. It’s a crime to be good at your job, apparently. He dug something up about a politician he was lobbying and the guy had him shot. Just like that.” You rubbed your eyes again and continued to speak with your hands covering your face. “My mom couldn’t take it. Nobody helped us. So that’s when I decided that I had to protect the people from the people.”

“So we’re the same.” Lev inhaled deeply. He hadn’t known—maybe he should’ve been able to tell, but you had hid it too well. You took your hands off your face, red marks left on your cheeks.

“I’m… _so_ sorry this happened to you. But we’re going to do everything we can to help.”

“So let me in,” he pleaded, leaning forwards. “I need to help. If something happens to Alisa—!”

“I can’t.”

He stared at you as you shook your head. 

“What do you mean you ‘can’t’…?”

“You’re too close to this. You could ruin everything. Lev, we need you to trust us.”

“…trust you? That’s what you want?” Lev started to laugh angrily, standing up and turning away so that he wouldn’t have to see you—the person who had betrayed him. “I trusted Yaku at one point, too. I was thirteen. But he couldn’t follow through. Wh-What the hell makes you think I’m going to trust you again?!”

“Lev—”

“Get out.”

“What?”

“I said… get _out_!” He turned around and stormed to the door, opening it wide and gesturing outside. He glared at you so furiously that you flinched. “Keep me off the case if you want. Fine. Fine! I thought I could trust you, but I guess I can’t. So I don’t want to see your damn face anymore. Get out!”

“Lev…”

“ _Out_!”

You winced at his words but obliged, scooping together the papers you had brought. You got up and walked slowly, stopping in front of him. You opened your words to say something.

“Lev—”

He pushed you outside and closed the door, locking it without a second’s thought. You had forgotten a single document on the floor, the one you’d turned over face down. He picked it up. There weren’t any other words on it, merely a scanned in attachment. It was the same family picture he had on the wall. Alisa was holding him in her arms, grinning wide. His parents both had meek, secretive smiles on their faces like they knew something he didn’t. He was struggling against Alisa, his chubby baby fat making him look like an entirely different person.

He went to the mantel and took down the picture. Promptly, he threw it into the floor, smashing it. Shards of glass strayed across his carpet. He shredded the document in his fingers, letting the papers fall to the floor like snow as he went to the kitchen. The glass shattered over his smiling face in a way that looked like streaks of tears.


	7. Chapter 7: Grey Goose

He was woken up by a hesitant knocking at his door, which grew progressively louder before stopping entirely. He wondered if the knocker would go away if he waited long enough—a cursory glance at his wristwatch told him it was still only 0400, still—but there was the sound of something thudding against his door and sliding to the floor. Lev got up woozily, the bottle of Russian vodka in his blood ruining his sense of balance despite his tolerance. He stumbled to the front door and opened it, stepping aside as you tumbled backwards, having been leaning on it.

“Sorry,” you blurted out immediately, getting to your fours and clambering to your feet. “I know you don’t want to see me but hear me out—”

“You’re wet,” Lev noted stupidly. You paused, touching your dark stringy hair.

“Yeah, it’s still raining…” You were quiet again and looked up at him. “… _you’re_ drunk.”

“You’re… no, _you’re_ drunk.”

You sighed gently and closed the door behind yourself, turning the lock as he wandered back into the kitchen. The Grey Goose bottle that Alisa had gifted to him as a joke to celebrate his graduation from the Academy was practically empty and he swirled it, peering down at the clear dregs. He thought about downing it but decided against it, turning and passing the bottle to you. You seemed to hesitate and he gestured to you more forcefully. You took it and turned it in your hands.

“I’m sorry, Lev. But Alisa will be okay.”

“Yeah, like _Yaku’s_ okay?” he scoffed. “Out of a job, wife and kid thinks he’s dead, he’s got a hole in him… she’s all I have left, you know?”

“So you’ve been telling me…”

He watched as you took a timid sip of the alcohol, wincing as it was probably burning your inexperienced throat. A smell of sweet rice wine off of you told him that this wasn’t your first drink of the night. Maybe that was why you were back, and maybe that was why he was still talking to you. 

“I know. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure that you and her stay together… make sure you’ve still got family.” There was pain in your voice and you downed the rest of the strong liquor, not even flinching this time. Despite his delayed reactions, a part of his drunkenness was smarter than his sober self, and he picked up on something.

“You said that your parents died. What happened to you after?”

“Me? I went into foster.”

“So… you don’t have any other family?”

“No.” Your lips curled into a bitter smile and you came forwards, setting the empty bottle on the table and leaning against the counter with him. “That’s why it’s so important to me that you get your sister back safe.”

“I’m sorry,” he managed. “I didn’t… I shouldn’t have…” He was slurring dangerously and you hiccupped, hocking it into another spiteful laugh.

“I’m a pathetic partner,” you said suddenly with such self-hatred that he was taken aback. “I’m making all these promises to you and I’m drunk as hell in your apartment. Fat good that’s gonna do.”

“I’m drunk too. Wait, no I’m not.” Lev’s brow furrowed as his thought patterns diverged messily. “What?”

You laughed again, more softly this time. “You know why else I’m a bad partner? I kind of fell in love with you. Stupid, right? And I’m only telling you this because you’re dead ass drunk.” You looked up at him and he met your gaze, the fuzzy feeling in his head blocking every emotion except for…

Relief.

“Lev?” you asked nervously, your brow furrowing with worry. “Why’re you looking at me like—”

When he kissed you, there were no thoughts in his brain. It was empty and that was how he wanted it to be right now. His sister wasn’t missing and his parents weren’t dead—right now, he was just kissing the girl—the woman—that he liked. You were small in his arms, still wet from having wandered around in the rain, your body frigid under his hot touch. Your lips parted, your taste sweet but still spicy from the vodka, until you pushed him away, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Wait, no. You’re—I’m—we’re drunk. This is bad. We shouldn’t—we can’t—”

“I need you,” he admitted, his voice low. You words were echoing through his head. _I’m only telling you this because you’re dead ass drunk._ It was probably why he was so okay admitting something he’d kept to himself for so long. It was probably why he thought it was okay in the first place. You were still pressed into the counter, his hands bracing his own body at your sides, caging you in. Your lips were red from the kiss and his head was falling forwards to you again. You caught him with your hands and kissed him, hard, on your toes to match his height.

“This is it,” you declared suddenly, pulling away for the second time. The air was rough on his throat. You looked at him seriously. “There’s no going back from this. Tomorrow morning…”

“I’ll still love you,” he muttered decisively, his hands sliding under your shirt. You put your cold ones on top of his as they stopped at the small of your back.

“You’re sure? You’re really sure, Lev?” Your voice was weak with the weight of old broken promises. He kissed you to take that pained strain away, the taste of you like ambrosia. He couldn’t get enough. He couldn’t keep away. His whispers were fire against your skin; painting red sunsets on your neck.

“I’m sure.”

**Author's Note:**

> Elsewhere: https://goo.gl/TCW7kJ


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